All for Molly
by CelticMyst777
Summary: This is my first 'Sherolly' fiction. It is set immediately after "His Last Vow". Sherlock is working through his feelings for Molly, and he eventually comes to realise that he does love her. However, will he be able to keep her safe from Moriarty?
1. Chapter 1: Has Jim Returned?

**All for Molly**

Chapter One: Has Jim Returned?****

Molly Hooper stood transfixed as the chilling voice of Jim Moriarty flashed statically across her small TV screen. She could feel her heart quicken in fear, as her small fingers gripped tightly to her faded sofa, causing her knuckles to blanch white. Toby glanced up from his comfortable position on the sofa to question the horrified expression that had pasted itself across his mistress's usually smiling face.

"Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" was the repetitive message etching its way into the minds of many souls across London. However, to Molly and a few select others, the message was a far more personal and sinister threat.

After a few more moments, Molly couldn't bear it anymore! Upon seizing the remote, she felt a fleeting sense of power in removing Jim from her sight! Walking over to a nearby window, Molly tentatively glanced out, with the hope that Moriarty or his hench-men weren't loitering outside. Seeing no one in sight, she exhaled in relief. What was she going to do? Her mind supplied the answer in a whisper,  
"Sherlock!"

From her antique coffee table, her mobile phone buzzed. Scrambling to pick it up, Molly noted that the message was indeed from her beloved Sociopath.

"How does he always manage to know when I am thinking of him?" Molly demanded from Toby. She was certain her cat winked at her in reply.

Scanning Sherlock's characteristically brief message, she read:

"Molly,  
At all costs, stay in your flat.  
He won't make the same mistake twice.

I will meet you there!

SH"

With renewed courage, Molly barricaded herself in. Luckily, she had been rostered a few days off work after completing a couple of night shifts at St. Bart's. At least now she wouldn't have to explain her absence from work. After checking and rechecking all the locks on her door and windows, Molly made herself some soup and bread for tea. After eating, she snuggled up with Toby on the comfy sofa. Tucked up in a cosy blanket, Molly settled into a romantic novel while Toby stood guard on her lap...

A couple hours later, and Sherlock still hadn't turned up. Molly wasn't too concerned, as she well knew that the detective kept odd hours.

"If Sherlock Holmes says he will be here...then he will come!" She affirmed to her sleepy cat.

Gradually the lines of her book grew more and more blurry as she battled to stay awake. In the end she did eventually fall asleep. There she lay with her long, wavy brown hair draped loosely around her upper body. One of her hands was still in a page of the book, the other gripping tightly to a piece of the blanket. Toby too was fast asleep, purring contentedly on her stomach.

That was how he found them, when he finally did show up. Neither girl nor cat had heard his soft entrance into the flat, with the spare key that Molly had given him years before. Sherlock allowed himself a few precious moments to gaze, with what could only be described as tenderness, as he watched his sleeping pathologist dream peacefully.

Then kneeling down in the front of the couch, Sherlock gently prised the book from her fingers, before placing a bookmark into the spot. Toby looked up and meowed. Sherlock shushed him silently, and the cat obliged him by sauntering off his sleeping mistress. Ever so carefully, Sherlock then slowly scooped Molly up into his arms. The movement, though gentle, did somewhat rouse the sleeping pathologist who then instinctively encircled her arms around his neck. Sleepily, she inhaled his aftershave before whispering softly,  
"I knew you would come, Sherlock!"

Sherlock, in turn, allowed himself a rare smirk before stroking her soft tendrils as he carried her to bed. After tucking Molly in, he leaned over her sleepy form and whispered,

"I will always come for you, Molly Hooper!" Remember that!"

After placing a tender kiss on her forehead, Sherlock left her room, shutting the door behind him. Managing to locate the spare bowl of dinner that Molly had set aside for him, Sherlock ate in silence on the sofa. He enjoyed savouring not only the tasty soup, but also the lingering perfume of his devoted pathologist.

After finishing the meal, Sherlock stretched out his long, lithe form and contemplated the best course of action. Before he allowed his tired body to succumb to sleep, Sherlock vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to keep his Molly safe.


	2. Chapter 2: Sherlock's Plan

**All for Molly**

Chapter 2: Sherlock's Plan****

Molly rose early the following morning refreshed after a good night's sleep. Blinking for a bit, as her mind gradually woke up, she remembered.  
"Sherlock is here!"  
Quietly, she padded over to her bedroom door and slowly turned the knob. Molly knew he loved sleeping on her couch. It was the one main reason why she kept it for so long, despite its tatty appearance. Sure enough, there he lay, still sleeping, with the even rise and fall of his chest. His beautiful dark auburn curls kissed by the early morning rays of sunlight peeking through the window.  


**In Molly's mind, there was no other word for it. He was beautiful - both in sleep and in action. At his feet, Molly noticed Toby sleeping soundly. Silently, she tiptoed back to her bed to grab her robe, before sneaking back outside to make them breakfast. As she crept past the couch, she could have sworn she saw his eyelids flicker. Choosing to ignore it, Molly pressed on into the kitchen and as quietly as possible, began to cook up some bacon and eggs. Of course such a meal can hardly be made quietly, yet Molly thoroughly engrossed herself in the task at hand. She thought of herself as a fairly decent cook.**

Amid scrambling up some eggs, she suddenly felt a pair of long arms snaking their way around her waist. Taking in a deep breath, Molly relaxed into his embrace as he whispered huskily,  
"Hello Molly". She noted that in the barely five minutes since she had snuck past the sofa, Sherlock Holmes, as only he could do, had successfully showered and shaved, and now stood intimately behind her with water dripping from his curls. Strangely his feat, both annoyed and fascinated her. Turning to face the smirking detective, she uttered, waving a spoon at him,  
"You were supposed to be asleep, Sherlock Holmes!"  
"And good morning to you too, Molly Hooper!" Sherlock replied with a smirk, before leaning down to kiss her forehead for the second time in 24 hours.

Leaving her side, he began to effortlessly fix them both a coffee, (as he deduced that they both would be more receptive to conversing after a strong brew in their stomachs). Molly stole glances at him. She could never stay annoyed with him for very long. Sherlock, of course, caught her gazing at him. He was still getting used to the feelings that he had for Molly. He had never felt such strong feelings for anyone before, not even when John Watson was around. Now that his offsider was happily married, Sherlock often wondered what it would be like to love, and be loved. How could he know what love is? His parents had often been distant. His brother, Mycroft, was always aloof and condescending. The only memory that Sherlock had that came close to what he reasoned love would be, was his childhood affection for 'Red-beard' his dog.

He knew that the closest person, who fit the criterion for loving him, was standing literally a few steps away from him. He studied her for a moment. Did Molly know what love is? She obviously thought she loved Tom, but everyone except herself could see that she was trying to replace Sherlock. She claimed she was over him...but Sherlock knew better. He knew that she had always cared for him. However, he inwardly cringed, when he recalled the many occasions when he had misused her loyalty to his own advantage.

But not anymore! She was the one person that he relied on to fake his death. Then she faithfully kept that secret to herself for two long years before he came back from the dead. Consequently, in those two years, Sherlock began to experience protective feelings for his devoted pathologist. So did he love her? Sherlock was beginning to suspect that he cared for Molly very much...which surely is the starting point to loving someone?...

"Are you alright, Sherlock?" Molly asked, after noticing Sherlock stirring their cups of coffee for a full 2 minutes without stopping.

"Yes I'm fine, Molly" he replied, before taking their mugs out to Molly's table. She followed soon after him with their breakfast. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Sherlock, looking at Molly's pensive face stated,

"You still are the one who counted Molly."  
"Sherlock...please," she began...then she was stopped by the uncharacteristic action of Sherlock reaching out to take her hands in his.

"Molly, I know you care for me...and despite what you might think...I believe that I am beginning to have feelings for you too. However, whilst Moriarty is somewhere out there, your life and mine are in grave danger. As such, the best course of action, as far as I can see, is for you and Toby to come and stay with me at Baker's Street.

"Sherlock?" Molly uttered questioningly.

"Please Molly; it's for your own good. You can take John's old room. That way I can keep an eye on you while we wait for Moriarty to show his hand."

In her heart and mind, Molly knew that it was a good plan. She knew she was safer in his company.

"Very well, Sherlock. I will do what you see as best." Across from her, the detective relaxed. Molly smiled at him as they rose to clear away the dishes.

As she watched the detective placing the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, she added with a cheeky grin,

"Well at least this way I can watch you become my moving man...delivering all my stuff to your place. This could be quite entertaining!"  
Sherlock, after starting the machine, lunged decisively at Molly, and successfully landed a couple of playful spanks to her bottom.

"Then we had better get started, lackey" he growled in his attractive baritone voice.  
"Lackey?" She challenged with her hands on her hips and standing on her tiptoes, looking him squarely in the face.  
"Yes, lackey!" He replied with a grin. "You know I always have an assistant to help do the leg work...so get moving...Molly dear!"

This time Molly didn't mind the additional affectionate swat to her rear, as she trudged on after him.  
Rubbing her bum, Molly asked herself,  
"Did the great Sherlock Holmes just spank me and call me, 'dear'?"


	3. Chapter 3: Moving In

**All for Molly**

Chapter 3: Moving In****

It took Sherlock and Molly most of the morning to organise Molly's essential belongings. Finally they had finished, and together they made several trips down to the awaiting taxi armed with bags of all shapes and descriptions. Sherlock had already commented on just how many bags a girl really needs. To which Molly just gave him a stormy look.

Anyway, now at last they could lock up her apartment. Sherlock had earlier arranged some members of his homeless network to patrol the area in case Moriarty or his crew showed up. With a wistful glance back at her apartment, Molly sensed a premonition that she would never be going back. She wasn't sure how this made her feel. Shaking aside these morbid thoughts, she slipped into the taxi where again uncharacteristically Sherlock stood patiently waiting for her to get in. Once she was safely inside, Sherlock joined her on the other side of the seat.

"221B Baker's Street, please driver," he requested in his clear, baritone voice.  
"Si, Senior" replied the middle-age Hispanic driver with a wink, as if he understood their situation. 

**True to character, Sherlock had already deduced that the driver wasn't part of Moriarty's network. As such, he relaxed a bit in the back seat with Molly, who was leaning her head on his shoulder. Awkwardly at first, he spread one of his arms around her and held her close. She could hear his heartbeat.**

"Oh to be young and in love" the driver commended.  
"Excuse me!" Sherlock shot back.  
"Oh pardon, Senior, I meant no offence...it's just not every day that I have the privilege of ferrying a couple in love to their secret rendezvous.  
"We're not lovers!" Sherlock exclaimed.  
The driver just grinned at him in the rear-view mirror, before wisely shutting-up for the rest of the trip. Molly suppressed a giggle by burying her face in Sherlock's coat. The poor detective oddly didn't feel embarrassed. If Molly was ok with it, then he would be too. Running his fingers through her hair, Sherlock was rewarded by her beaming smile, as she looked up into his beautiful eyes...

Too soon they reached their destination. On hand, John and Mary Watson met them at the door, and after pleasantries were exchanged, helped to unload Molly's belongings. Both Sherlock and John re-iterated as to how many bags a girl needs. 

**"Men!" both Molly and Mary replied in unison, as their attractive men went ahead into the flat.  
They both were in giggles, by the time the boys returned.  
"Now come on you two," John began, "give us a hand."  
The girls had compassion on them and eagerly assisted.**

Soon the four friends were sitting around the lounge with Mrs Hudson's famous sandwiches for lunch. The faithful housekeeper had earlier welcomed Molly with open arms. She initially expected the pathologist to be sharing Sherlock's room. Needless to say with a look from Sherlock, she was soon informed that Molly was having John's old room. 

**As she led Molly into the room she whispered,  
"I always thought this would make a good nursery."  
"Oh, Mrs Hudson!" Molly replied blushing, not totally opposed to the idea.  
Noting this, Mrs Hudson replied,  
"We will just have to convince Sherlock, that's all"  
"Convince me of what, Mrs Hudson?" Sherlock suddenly loomed in the doorway.  
"Um..." Mrs Hudson began...searching for the right words.  
Molly jumped in to the rescue,  
"Convince you to have some of Mrs Hudson's famous sandwiches for lunch!"  
Sherlock saw through her blatant fib, but he chose to ignore it.  
"Of course! I know of no other sandwiches quite as appetising as Mrs Hudson's" he returned.  
"Then I'll go make you all some!" the housekeeper suggested quickly, leaving the room with a wink to Molly that Sherlock didn't miss.**

Sherlock turned to his pathologist with an inquiring look as to ask what that wink was all about? Molly replied by leaning up to kiss his cheek. Then she took his hand in hers and led him back down to the lounge.

"I'll get the truth from you, one day, Molly Hooper!" He growled, but his eyes were twinkling.

They entered the room still hand in hand. The Watsons immediately noticed their intimate hand pose and exchanged knowing looks to each other. Sherlock noted this, and reluctantly let go of Molly's hand after seeing her to her seat. He himself relaxed into his favoured chair and closed his eyes. Holding his hands to his chin, Sherlock let the others know that he was slipping into what he called his 'mind place'.

The other three, therefore, opted to converse amongst themselves. Molly inquired after the Watsons' upcoming baby. This topic of conversation was gladly received by the proud soon-to-be parents.

"We are still thinking up names for our baby girl." John began, "we don't really want to name her Agatha after my mum, or Augusta after Mary's mum,"  
This statement got a snigger out of a seemingly pre-occupied Sherlock. 

**John heard it and replied,  
"but we are definitely NOT naming her Sherlock!"  
Molly and Mary giggled at the exchanged between John and Sherlock.**

Mrs Hudson then interrupted them with her customary greeting from the door as she brought in a large tray, loaded with delicious-looking sandwiches.

"Mrs Hudson, you have outdone yourself!" Mary exclaimed.  
"Oh it's nothing really dear," the housekeeper returned humbly.

Just then there was a knock on the door below.

"Ah, that will be Lestrade!" declared Sherlock coming to attention immediately.

Sure enough the heavy-footed policeman entered the little gathering, and was soon devouring several sandwiches.

After the group had eaten their full, Sherlock rose to address them. Calling Mrs Hudson in, he offered her a chair before declaring,

"Now that we are all here and have had our fill, I think it's time that we discuss what our plan is to bring down Moriarty. The atmosphere immediately became sombre, as the realisation that everyone present in the room had either been previously, or could well be in the near future, targeted by the madman in his quest to destroy Sherlock...


	4. Chapter 4: Plan of Action

All for Molly

Chapter 4: Plan of Action

Over the next hour, Sherlock discussed his well-structured plan. After spending excessive energy, in his mind place, the detective finally felt that he had explored all avenues as to how to keep these special people safe.

In Molly's case, it was simple. She would stay with him at Baker's Street where he could keep an eye on her. Mrs Hudson was ordered to remain in the flat as much as possible. For the Watsons, Sherlock asked that they keep a sharp lookout for any suspicious activity such as strange letters/notes/gifts or people lurking around their cosy cottage on the outskirts of London. The same went for Lestrade, who was to post extra plain-clothed men around favoured haunts of the Watsons, Molly and Mrs Hudson.

"So if anything in anyway comes into your head that you think is odd," began Sherlock, "or if you feel threatened, or see anything potentially dangerous, notify me as soon as possible! Moriarty's feud is with me, but he won't hesitate to hurt any of you. So please be extra vigilant!"

With that, Sherlock dismissed the group. John had a few afternoon appointments at his practice, while Mary had a pre-natal check-up at the same venue. Lestrade waved goodbye muttering something about catching up on over-due paperwork.

Fairly soon, only Mrs Hudson, Molly and Sherlock were left standing in the entrance to the flat as they watched their other friends disappear into the smoggy street. Once the others had vanished, Sherlock deftly secured the door. Turning to the two women, who both were gazing directly up into his clear blue eyes, he added with a pointed finger,

"Now you two won't be going out without my company whilst this threat remains over our heads."

Seeing Molly attempt to reason, Sherlock put an arm around her and led her back into the lounge and said,

"Please Molly, do this for me." His genuine plea, endorsed by the sincerity of his beautiful eyes, compelled Molly to resign her protest.

"Very well Sherlock, I guess I can phone, instead of walking, to St. Barts in order to get some long service leave! They are always harping on at me to take a holiday anyway. Until now, there never has been much of an incentive. However, you Sherlock Holmes are more than enough incentive to take some time off!" With that, Molly caressed his long cheekbones, as she watched her words being processed by Sherlock's analytical mind.

Sherlock's previously tense face gradually softened in response to Molly's words and intimate touch. Decisively he captured his sweet pathologist in his embrace before leaning down to kiss her passionately on the lips.

"Thank-you, dearest Molly," was his whispered reply, before he reluctantly released her from his arms, to retrieve his violin. It wouldn't do for him to scare Molly off by too much emotion all at once, he reasoned to himself. So instead he channelled his passion into his music.

Molly, meanwhile, was still caught up in that glorious kiss. She took a moment to savour his touch on her lips. That was the second time today that he had called her 'dear'. What had gotten into Sherlock? Why had he recently become so caring? Molly wasn't yet sure, but she certainly knew that she was enjoying this tender side of him.

The soft lilt of classical music wafting its way around the room awoke Molly to reality. She located her mobile phone buried under a discarded newspaper.

"Hello Janice….no…I'm fine…I just need you to put me down for some long service leave…." Molly instructed to her associate.

Sherlock enjoyed watching her pixie-form, as she fluttered around the room in her attempt to convince her friend that she was indeed alright…that it was just a holiday. By her animated body language, Sherlock knew full well that his kiss had aroused her!

After a few minutes further, Molly ended the call and discarded her phone on a near-by couch. Flopping down into the seat beside it, she stated,

"Well that phone-call was a saga and a half!"

Sherlock smirked at her amid-piece to reply,

"Welcome to my world!"

Molly giggled in response, and Sherlock winked at her before continuing his composition.

Picking at her clothes, Molly realised that by the amount of cat hair over her woollen jumper, Toby must be moulting again.

"Oh dear, I hope Sherlock won't mind cat hair in his kitchen experiments…." She thought to herself. Then suddenly it dawned on Molly. She hadn't set eyes on Toby since arriving at Sherlock's flat. Turning to the detective, she demanded,

"Sherlock, where is Toby?"

Sherlock responded by playing a wrong note with his bow.

"Indeed", he thought, "What had happened to Toby?"


	5. Chapter 5: Where is Toby

All for Molly

Chapter 5: Where is Toby?

Sherlock and Molly, with the help of Mrs Watson searched the flat high and low for Toby. Sherlock suggested that they think like a cat in order to narrow down possible locations as to where the large, ginger cat could be hiding. However, after hitting his head a couple of times, not to mention dousing himself in water after accidently knocking over Mrs Hudson's washing water, he abandoned further risky explorations. Molly passed him a towel to dry his hair, whilst she attempted another method of locating her beloved feline. Taking a dishevelled Sherlock by the hand, she sat him down at the kitchen table. Sitting next to him, biting her cheek so as not to smirk at his pathetic facial expressions, Molly boldly asked,

"Um Sherlock, dear, can you remember the last time you actually saw Toby?"

Sherlock turned to her, amid rub, not sure whether he heard Molly correctly. Did she just call him dear? He decided he would file that question away for a later time.

"The last that I saw Toby," he began, "was when he nearly tripped me over as I walked down the stairs from your apartment."

Molly smiled and replied, "You do have such long legs you know." Then, seeing his steady, stern gaze she added, "I think I saw him hop into the taxi…I guess I should have dug out his carrier, but it was in such a poor condition that it wouldn't have been very useful."

"And like me you don't remember seeing him on the ride over here?" Sherlock suggested.

"No…I am afraid I didn't see him, however, Toby would have made his presence known if he had ridden with us, as he always clings to my lap when travelling. That was something that didn't happen very often, as I didn't like having my thighs all scratched up!"

Sherlock chuckled before noticing the sad look passing across her face.

"No I guess you wouldn't. However, I feel it plausible to advise you, Molly that our ginger friend may have been abducted as a rouse to force us to show our hand."

"But why pick on Toby, Sherlock?" Molly begged, her eyes glistening with tears.

Sherlock took her trembling hands in his and replied,

"It is almost impossible to explain the methods of a madman, Molly. However, I recall something which my late adversary,Magnussen , said regarding pressure points. So far, your pressure point has been Toby, as he is the object of your love….Magnussen couldn't pinpoint my pressure point, because until now not even I truly knew where it lay."

Molly looked up at him inquiring and asked,

"Can I ask what your pressure point is, Sherlock?"

The detective turned to gaze intently into her glistening brown eyes.

"Oh Molly, my pressure point is my heart. You Molly are my heart. My greatest fear is that Moriarty declared that he would one day 'burn the heart out of me'. At the time, I couldn't conceptualise what was my heart was then. However, now more than ever, I know that my heart is wrapped up in you. That's why I will not let him get you, because if he does, he will have successfully destroyed me."

Molly couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Her Sherlock loved her. True he hadn't excatlt said "I love you" but the words he had employed rang true with such a sentiment. Sherlock watching this realisation sink into her mind, suddenly reached out and held her close on his lap. Whispering words of comfort, he vowed,

"I promise you Molly, we will get Toby back."

Mrs Hudson entered at that moment with a steaming cup of tea for them both. She pretended that she didn't notice the intimate exchange between them, but Sherlock noticed a smile on her face as she discreetly left the kitchen. Turning his attention back to Molly, he tenderly helped her hold her steaming mug in her trembling hands. After drinking their full he whispered,

'As much as I enjoy having you snuggling on my lap, Molly, I think we had best re-trace our steps to your apartment. He got a courageous nod out of his plucky pathologist.

"That's my girl," he whispered.

Just then Mrs Hudson rushed into the room in an animated fashion.

"Oh Sherlock…Molly….you must see what's happened on the news!"

The pair quickly rose to investigate. There, in blaring letters across the screen it was very clear that Moriarty had shown his hand.

From the screen came the words,

"The cause of the fire is not yet known…Scotland Yard is investigating. Luckily the occupant wasn't home at the time."

"Sherlock", Molly uttered clutch tight to his arm and surveying the flaming building, "That was my apartment!"


	6. Chapter 6: Molly's Apartment

All for Molly

Chapter 6: Molly's Apartment

Sherlock and Molly stood stunned outside of her blazing flat as firefighters battled the flames. Eventually, they managed to contain the blaze. Most of the onlookers had decided leave the spectacle, once the flames had been extinguished. After giving her statement to Lestrade, who was quick to the scene, Molly was escorted by Sherlock to get a closer look. Carefully they examined the charred interior of her flat. Molly tried to hold back her tears when she noticed little sentimental items burnt beyond repair. Noticing her tears, Sherlock took her hand in his, by way of comforting her.

"You can wait outside if it's too painful, Molly?" he suggested.

"I'll be fine, Sherlock," She replied sniffing. "I feel safer next to you anyway."

Sherlock gave her a smirk and stated,

"That's what I have been telling you all along, sweetheart!"

They continue to search each of the rooms in the apartment. When they came to Molly's bedroom, they found something interesting. Where her bed once stood, Sherlock spied a tiny, gleaming object. Leaning down he picked up what turned out to be a metallic cat tag. When Sherlock showed it to Molly, she exclaimed,

"Toby had a tag like that!"

"This isn't Toby's, Molly, as _your_ name is what is engraved on it!" Sherlock affirmed.

"What!" She exclaimed.

"I deduce that this was put here by Moriarty. The two interesting features that lead me to this conclusion are:

Your name being engraved on it

It is shaped as a heart."

"I'll burn the heart out of you…" murmured Molly quietly.

"Exactly!" Sherlock returned. "It has all the hallmarks of Moriarty's handiwork."

Just then Lestrade entered carrying a heavy sooty bundle. Upon addressing them, Lestrade flinched as the bundle flew out of his arms and raced across to Molly.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed

"Toby" Molly cried with joy as her now charcoal-coated cat meowed loudly around her feet.

Sherlock watched the whole scene with an amused expression, as Lestrade muttered something about how he found the 'vicious beast' hiding in near-by drain pipe.

Molly cuddled Toby to her as she left the flat. Finding an old rag that the firefighters gave her, she dipped it in water and began to clean him. Sherlock followed a few paces behind her, deep in thought. Then, hearing Molly's girlish giggles, he came out of his mind place to gaze at her inefficient method of cleaning her cat. He noted that she had ended up being covered in as much soot as her feline.

Pulling out a clean handkerchief, Sherlock gently wiped some of the grime from her joyful face. Oh how he wished to see her this happy all the time. After placing Toby into a sturdy carrier that a friendly neighbour offered, Molly impulsively threw her arms around Sherlock and uttered,

"Oh Sherlock, Toby is safe!"

Sherlock held her close wishing with all his heart that he would continue to be able to keep both Molly and Toby safe. Upon hearing her contented yawn, Sherlock replied,

"I'm glad Toby is alright, but now I would very much like to get him and his mistress home safely where I can ensure they get a good bath before a restful night's sleep."

Molly nodded and replied,

"I sure wouldn't mind a bath, but I know Toby would scratch you to pieces if you even tried to get him into a bucket of water!"

"Is that a challenge, Molly Hooper?" Sherlock demanded as he helped her and Toby into a cab.

"No, just a warning," Molly replied, "I wouldn't want your beautiful face and hands to be scratched to pieces."

…

Two hours later, after both Molly and Toby had been cleaned up, Mrs Hudson brought in some hot chocolate. Molly was snuggling up to Sherlock who was absently running his fingers through her long hair. Molly knew that his mind was miles away. Looking up at him she asked,

"So what has the great Sherlock Holmes deduced from tonight's shenanigans?"

"He deduces that Moriarty was definitely behind the fire, and that he is now biding his time before striking again. However, I have absolutely no intention of allowing him to burn down 221 B Baker's Street!" Sherlock uttered emphatically.

After a few minutes Sherlock looked down to notice that Molly had drifted off to sleep leaning against his shoulder. Her serene face brought yet more tender emotions to the forefront of his mind. Toby watched from his snug bed by the fire, as Sherlock scooped Molly up into his arms before carrying her up to bed.

After tucking her in (he really was relishing this privilege), Sherlock took an appreciative gaze around the now more feminine room.

"Good night, Molly darling" he whispered after kissing her cheek. Then he stopped to add. "I agree with Mrs Hudson. This room would make a good nursery. Oh that's right I wasn't supposed to have overheard that conversation!"

Walking silently to the door a smirking Sherlock was stopped in his tracks by the supposedly asleep Molly replying,

"I knew very well that you heard that conversation, Sherlock Holmes, even if you pretended otherwise. As to this room being a nursery, I would love to nurse our babies in it!"

Before she could say anything more, Sherlock was on top of her, kissing her passionately. After they came up for air, he scolded her by saying,

"Now Molly, don't you get me excited just yet! We still have to deal with Moriarty, before we think about having babies, otherwise we may not have a nursery for them to grow up in!"

Gazing up into his glorious, blue eyes that were gleaming with desire, Molly sighed,

"As always, you are right darling."

Reluctantly Sherlock rose up from the bed and turned out the light.

"Good night, Molly"

"Good night, Sherlock"

As he made his way down to his room, Sherlock was awakened out of his reverie when he heard a muffled thud. His attuned ears picked up that it had come from the doorway. Sure enough on the doormat was a letter. Picking it up, Sherlock noted that it was addressed to Molly. Instinctively he flung open the door. After an extensive gaze around the street, Sherlock couldn't see anything untoward. Re-locking the door, he marched back into the lounge.

"So the game is indeed a-foot!" he declared knowing that unlike Molly, he wouldn't be able to sleep a wink tonight.


	7. Chapter 7: St Valentine's Day Surprise

All for Molly

Chapter 7: Valentine's Day

Molly woke to the sun streaming in from the window of her new room at Baker's Street. She mindlessly attempted to catch some of the dust particles floating around her bed that were highlighted by the morning rays. As it was still snowing outside, she was quite happy to relax in a cosy, warm bed. Toby chose this moment to leap up and lick her cheek. He audibly greeted her with a loud meow.

"If only you could speak, Toby old boy" she cooed, rubbing an itchy spot behind the cat's neck.

"If he could speak, then he would be giving you a Valentine's Day greeting." Sherlock offered, leaning against the door frame with his hands clasped behind him.

"Good Morning, Sherlock!" Molly exclaimed, her face brightening even further to see her beloved gazing lovingly at her. He moved decisively to her, where Molly eagerly made room for him to sit beside her. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind Molly's ear, Sherlock leant down to kiss her.

"It's all over, Molly dearest!" he began, stroking her cheek, "Moriarty is truly dead."

It was at this close proximity, that Molly could detect the tell-tale black rings round Sherlock's eyes.

"Whatever happened last night, Sherlock?" she pressed insistently. "You look like you didn't get any sleep at all!"

Sherlock let out an exhausted sigh, before positioning his himself under the covers next to Molly.

"After I kissed you good night, I discovered a letter addressed to you at the front door. I checked the street outside for any fleeing characters, but I could see no one suspicious. Consequently, I locked the door and opened the letter. The message was indeed sent to frighten you. It contained many obscene remarks that I won't divulge, as this whole business has turned out to be a very elaborate hoax!"

"A hoax," declared Molly, "Someone blew up my apartment as part of an elaborate, practical joke!

"I'm afraid so, darling," Sherlock return, trying to quieten her by his strong embrace.

"To what purpose?" Molly asked.

"With the help of Mycroft, I determined that the Serbian ring of Moriarty's network had launched an all-out offensive against me, once they realised that I had returned to London. Unbeknownst to us, Mycroft's team had being tracking the two operatives. Last night, my brother called me to say that they had apprehended the villains in a local drug den." Sherlock explained, and before Molly could open her mouth to ask the inevitable question, he reassured her by saying,

"I promise you Molly, that I didn't take any drugs, either willingly or from having them forced on me."

Molly smirked at his pious look, before burying her face into his warm chest.

"Of course you didn't, darling" she murmured, content that he was telling the truth.

"Anyway," Sherlock recommenced his story by running his long fingers through her hair, "We successfully nabbed them for drug possession as well as arson and a few other charges that we unearthed. Needless to say, they didn't want to come quietly, and so we had to use some physically persuasion to show them that the game was up."

With this information sinking in, Molly gave Sherlock a good looking over from his face to his toes. She wanted to undo his shirt to check more thoroughly, but Sherlock stated that such a move wouldn't be a good idea just yet!"

"Can I ask why not, Sherlock Holmes?" Molly demanded.

Sherlock chuckled at his miffed Pathologist before sweeping her up into his arms.

"Where are we going?" She asked still clad in her purple-striped pyjamas.

"Hush, dear one," Sherlock replied, "and close your eyes for me, if you please."

Molly knew that his request was more of a command. She ceded to his wishes as he carried her out to the lounge. Carefully he seated her at the couch before pushing a table in front of her.

Smiling down at her, Sherlock uttered,

"You can open your eyes now, Molly."

Molly obeyed, and her eyes widened in surprise to what he had placed before her. On the table, covered in red cloth, lay a box of heart-shaped chocolates, a single red rose in a slender long vase and a small velvet box which Sherlock pocketed discreetly.

"Happy St. Valentine's Day, Molly" Sherlock declared. "Have I got everything right…the chocolates, the flowers…?"

"Oh, Sherlock…it'd perfect!" Molly declared pulling the detective down beside her and planting a kiss on his lips.

Sherlock's eyes sparkled with joy.

"Actually there is something I need to do before we go on kissing."

"What could that possibly be?" Molly began before Sherlock answered her by bending down before her on one knee. Her heart quivered in anticipation.

"Molly," Sherlock began, searching for the right words, "Molly I have been a real ass to you in the past…taking you for granted. You have always been faithful, and done whatever whim I have requested from you. You bear with me throughout my moody days. You light up my sterile, clinical life through your vivacity and kindness. Oh Molly, I know now that I truly love you with all my heart. There is really no other way that I can express it. You are my heart, my life. Molly Hooper would you make me the happiest sociopath ever, by marrying me?"

With this proposal, Sherlock presented her with the velvet box that he had hidden in his coat pocket.

Molly took it with trembling fingers and opened it to reveal a stunning ruby heart shaped ring. She noticed that Sherlock had commissioned it to be engraved.

"Molly – the love of my Heart" she read, trying to keep back the tears of joy streaming down her face. Sherlock gazed intently at her as he slowly slid the ring onto her finger.

"Oh Sherlock, dearest, of course I'll marry you!" Molly replied by flinging her arms around his neck. "I always knew that Sociopaths were my type, but there was only ever one who would capture my heart forever!"


	8. Chapter 8: Happy Ending

All for Molly

Epilogue:

A few months later:

A few months, following that special Valentine's Day, Sherlock and Molly were married in a small church ceremony in front of their friends and family. It was a beautiful summer's day that would be a most memorable occasion for all present. Just like Mr Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, Sherlock couldn't wipe the smile from his face. Beside him, Molly looked radiant in her simple, white gown and glistening tiara. Her hair was piled up in loose ringlets to match the wild curls of her new husband. They had a musical reception and everyone enjoyed dancing through the night to various classical pieces.

Eventually though, it was time to leave. Little Caroline Watson, in the arms of her father, cooed in delight as she waved goodbye to the newlyweds. Mary, who was soon expecting their second child, beamed proudly at her golden-haired infant...

Sherlock and Molly honeymooned for two weeks on the Isle of Man, before returning to their beloved flat at 221B Baker's Street. Mrs Hudson was overjoyed to see them. In their absence, she had been busily redecorating the second bedroom into a perfect nursery. She was truly as subtle as an avalanche! However, the young couple loved her work and kissed her tenderly on the cheek by way of thanking her….

One year later:

Molly woke during a balmy night, to discover that Sherlock wasn't asleep by her side. Seeing as she needed to get herself a glass of water, Molly went looking for him. She had a very good idea as to where he was anyway. Entering the nursery she couldn't help but smile at her darling husband who flashed her a wink, whilst deftly balancing their twin son and daughter in his arms. He was retelling a well-known story, and upon creeping up to them, Molly could see that Sherlock had both babies' full attention. Sitting down beside him on the couch, Molly kissed his cheek as she snuggled up to him and closed her eyes. Like their children, she relished listening to his velvet baritone voice as he took them on a journey through the classic stories of old.

It wasn't long though before little Richard and Eleanor were sound asleep in his arms. Molly helped Sherlock gently tuck them into their cots.

"They are so beautiful!" Molly whispered to Sherlock as she leant over their beds.

He stood behind her with his arms around her waist as they gazed lovingly at their twins.

The pair had Sherlock's dark auburn curls and brilliant blue eyes, something which the detective was immensely proud of. However, Sherlock was also quick to add that they both had Molly's nose and ears.

"I guess we should try and get some sleep too, Mummy Molly," Sherlock suggested before sweeping his little wife up into his arms as he carried her into their own room.

"I love you, Sherlock!" Molly whispered sleepily, as he slid in beside her, making sure she was comfortable.

"I love you too, Molly darling." Sherlock replied as he spooned her body to his. As he held her tight; Sherlock felt compelled to offer a silent prayer of thanks to the One who had blessed him with such a wonderful wife and family.

The End


End file.
